


Enemies Close

by literaryoblivion



Series: Freck's Inktober [17]
Category: Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Flirting, Hunter Dean Winchester, Kissing, Light Angst, M/M, POV Derek, Werewolf Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-19
Updated: 2018-10-19
Packaged: 2019-08-04 07:35:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16342523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literaryoblivion/pseuds/literaryoblivion
Summary: Derek stops at a bar in or near Kansas and ends up running into a hunter, Dean. It takes Derek a while to realize that Dean might be wanting more than just friendly conversation with him.





	Enemies Close

**Author's Note:**

> This is sort of set during season 6 of Teen Wolf but not really? Basically Derek is away from Beacon Hills and all that entails and is just traveling around avoiding certain places. Stiles is mentioned and is in a relationship with someone else (as per TW S6). As far as time frame for Supernatural universe... I got nothing. Maybe Dean's taking a break from the bunker or getting back from a case and is close to the bunker but not quite there yet? Yeah let's go with that.

He’s been alone for too long, and he knows it. But he can’t bring himself to the fact that he needs to accept that he needs to go back. So he doesn’t. He keeps traveling. Searching. For what, he’s not even sure at this point, but the thought of going back to Beacon Hills, of calling Scott… Stiles. He just… can’t. He’s positive they have moved on.

He knows for a fact that Stiles is dating Lydia these days (what? He has a Facebook; he’s not completely out of touch), and Scott’s got things covered, he’s sure, with everyone else. They don’t need him. He had told them there was no reason for him to come back, and he’s sticking to that.

The problem is… he has nowhere else to go.

Sure, he has plenty of places _not_ to go. Beacon Hills is at the top (but he avoids the whole state as a precaution), Washington D.C. and the area surrounding it is out because of Stiles, and he avoids New York, too. He went to South America for a little while, Brazil, and was with Cora, but she’s better off without him, so he left.

Now… now he’s not quite sure where he is, been driving and stopping at random places for a while. He thinks he’s somewhere in Kansas, or maybe outside of it? But if he doesn’t have anywhere to go or get to, does it really matter where he is?

He’s tired and hungry, and he sees a sign for a bar at the next exit, so he takes it. If there’s a bar, there’s likely some shitty motel nearby he can crash at for the night and shower. It’s late, nearing eleven p.m. on his car dashboard, although given his passing through time zones, he’s not exactly sure what time it actually is at the bar.

There’s several cars parked in front, and when Derek parks and steps, out he can hear music--a band playing cover songs--loud enough that even someone with normal hearing could hear. He can hear several conversations, though not distinctly enough to pick out exact words. From the talking though, he figures there’s at least twenty or thirty people, enough that the bar is full but not packed. He’d prefer it if it were less, not a fan of large crowds, but at least with this amount he can blend in and be forgotten.

As he walks up to the bar, he can smell blood and gun powder and some other scents he can’t quite place coming from the trunk he just passed. He stares at it a moment, a black Impala, and he thinks about turning around. He can’t be certain, but the smells scream "hunter," and the last thing he wants to deal with is some Argent wannabe out for anything that goes bump in the night.

Derek, at least, has the advantage. He knows a hunter is somewhere in the bar, but that hunter has no idea he’s a werewolf. Derek’s positive he can keep it that way, get a drink (or several) to blend in even though the alcohol will do nothing for him, and then get something to eat and ask where the nearest motel is. He’ll be in there an hour, hour and a half tops, and then he’ll leave. Maybe if he’s lucky, the hunter will leave before he does, and he can stay longer and relax, pretend he’s liking the music and sticking around to hear the band’s whole set.

He, of course, isn’t that lucky.

~

He’s been there for about 15 minutes, snagged a spot at the end of the bar, and now he’s waiting for the burger and cheese fries he ordered that the bartender claimed were delicious. There wasn’t really a big selection to choose from, so Derek had ordered it.

It’s while he’s waiting for his burger, sipping at his beer, that the hunter takes the seat right next to him. Derek knows it’s him, can smell the same scents on his jacket that he smelled from the trunk. He chooses to see it as a coincidence that the hunter chose the seat next to him instead of one further down. The hunter’s gesturing to the bartender for a refill, and Derek is secretly hoping that he won’t say anything and that he’ll leave as soon as he gets his alcohol.

Of course that’s not how the universe ever works for Derek.

“Have we met?” the man says, tapping Derek on the shoulder to get his attention.

Without turning his attention to the man, Derek shakes his head. “Don’t think so. I’m not from around here.”

The hunter smiles. “Me neither. Although… I’m from close enough that I guess I could be.”

Derek hums, hoping that the man will get the picture and leave him alone. Either that was a shitty pick-up line or this hunter’s seen his face somewhere. There’s probably some hunter’s most wanted list that circulates supernatural creatures’ faces.

“Where you from then, if not here?” the man asks, and Derek sighs internally.

He shrugs. “Here and there. I’m mostly nomadic these days.” It’s not a lie; it’s the truth for right now. But no way in hell is he telling this hunter he’s from Beacon Hills.

“Must get lonely.”

Derek lifts a shoulder, takes another sip of his beer. “I make do.”

The man nods like he understands, and maybe he does. If Derek remembers correctly, he doesn’t think the man was with anyone earlier.

“My name’s Dean,” he says, holding out his hand. Derek decides it’s better to go with it than to be rude, so he accepts the handshake.

“Derek.”

A woman brings out his burger and fries and sets the plate down in front of him, along with a bottle of ketchup and a shaker of salt and pepper.

“Good choice,” Dean says, pointing to the plate. Derek makes a face that he hopes conveys thanks and starts eating. He tries his best not to scarf it down, not to appear even remotely wolf-like, but he’s starving, not having eaten since that morning.

For the most part, Dean leaves him alone, ends up ordering his own plate of fries and eats them beside Derek. Derek’s not quite sure what to expect from Dean. He seems friendly, but that doesn’t mean anything. Kate had seemed friendly and look where that got him. Jennifer had seemed friendly, too. This time Derek at least knows Dean’s a murderer, so it’s not like he’ll be tricked.

But he can’t figure out why Dean’s sticking around, talking to him as they eat, small talk mostly, both avoiding anything remotely personal and discussing the music, various bands, the food. It’s nice, don’t get Derek wrong--he’d slowly let himself relax a little, the topics easy and neutral--but he couldn’t quite figure what Dean’s angle was. There were plenty of attractive women in the bar, some clearly looking to be picked up, and occasionally Dean would eye them when they approached to get a drink, but he’d immediately go back to Derek, like Derek was better, like the others weren’t worth more than a quick glance while he was talking to Derek.

He was finished with both his beer and his burger when Dean ordered him another beer.

“It’s on me.” Then, he gave Derek a wink.

And that’s when it clicks. Dean is slowly but surely working on Derek, chatting him up enough so that the invitation to get out of there isn’t abrupt or unwelcome. Maybe it had been a shitty pick-up line after all.

What is surprising about all of it is that Derek finds he doesn’t really mind. It’s been a while since he’d been with anyone, let alone a man, and Dean is attractive. He has green eyes and light freckles and a charming smile that could make anyone’s knees weak if they weren’t careful.

And throughout the night, Derek realizes their bodies had been turned toward each other, that he and Dean were sitting a lot closer to each other than they had when Dean had first sat down. How had Derek not realized that? Had he not been paying attention, distracted by that disarming smile of Dean’s?

Damnit.

His knees are not weak.

Clearly, his body is reacting to the warmth and companionship that he’s been denying it for months. As much as he’s human, he still has a wolf’s temperament, and a wolf seeks out a pack, a mate, and with Dean it’s found a poor, temporary substitute.

Derek decides that he’s this far, he might as well embrace it. Like he said, Dean’s pretty, and despite being a hunter, he seems like he’d be good in bed. He puts on this rough and tough exterior, but he’s probably tender and caring while he has sex. And… Derek could use a little of that. Besides… keep your enemies close and all that.

So, he turns his flirting up more, scoots in closer to Dean, talks a little more, cracks some sarcastic jokes that make Dean laugh, and then when both their beers are empty and neither has ordered another, Derek goes for the kill.

“Hey, so you said you live close to here? Do you know of any motels nearby?” Derek asks.

Dean nods, pulling his wallet from his back pocket and pulling out a few bills to set on the bar. Derek copies him, and then they both stand from their stools and walk out of the bar.

He still hasn’t answered Derek’s question, and Derek’s not sure if he will and if he interpreted everything wrong. Maybe Dean does know what he is, and he’s luring him to his car so he can get a weapon and kill Derek.

When they get to the parking lot, Dean stops near his car and turns to face Derek. Derek tries to remain casual, keeping himself in check--on alert but that’s it.

“So there’s one just up the road at the next exit, but it’s not worth the hassle. Beds are uncomfortable and nine times out of ten the hot water is out. But, if you’re willing to backtrack a little, there’s a pretty decent one at the past exit.”

Derek can’t hear any lies in anything he’s said, and Dean is leaning against his car, arms folded across his chest, and not in his pockets where he could pull a weapon. Derek decides to play his hand, see if maybe Dean is willing to cash the check he’s been writing all night.

He steps in closer to Dean, puts one hand on the car next to Dean and leans in. He can hear the slight blip in Dean’s heart rate when he does, can start to smell something besides the alcohol and gunpowder, something spicy… lust, desire. Jackpot.

“I don’t mind backtracking… if it’s worth it. You wouldn’t happen to be heading that direction, are you?”

Dean smirks slightly. “I am, actually.”

“It’s pretty late. You’re not going to drive all the way home tonight, are you?”

“Probably shouldn’t.”

The whole time they’ve gotten closer, Dean’s leaning further back into his car, his hands at his sides. Derek looks down at the dwindling space between them, then lets the one hand not on the car rest on Dean’s hip.

“Maybe I should follow you,” Derek says quietly. “You can show me where to go, I can make sure you don’t kill yourself falling asleep at the wheel.” Dean snorts at that.

“Then what?” Dean says, eyes flickering between Derek’s lips and his eyes.

“I’m willing to share a room if you are.”

Dean hums, like he’s thinking. “I have to check something first.”

Confused, Derek furrows his brow, but Dean pulls him into a kiss. It’s anything but chaste, hot and wet and dirty. They break apart breathless, and then Dean says,

“I think you have a solid plan. Let’s go.”

**Author's Note:**

> So I was too tired and this got way too long for me to end this properly. But basically, how I see it is they go back to the hotel, both decide to take hot showers first and then just conveniently don't put their clothes back on and end up in bed together to have sexy times. They do fall asleep together, but Dean wakes after a few hours and decides to head home. Before he takes off, he leaves a note for Derek: "Thanks for the fun night. Take care of yourself, Hale."
> 
> Come say hi on [my tumblr](http://literaryoblivion.tumblr.com/) or [my twitter](http://twitter.com/lit_oblivion).


End file.
